In Sickness And In Health
by Orwell is watching-xoxo
Summary: The Rizzoli Family Christmas 'verse: Jane Rizzoli hated being sick, especially when her wife decided to get in the middle of it like only Maura Isles could do. Established Rizzles.


**So I had this idea hit me last night. Blame my own sickness, which has been going on since Thanksgiving. Meh. **

**I own nothing, other than Kimberly, obviously. **

_**In Sickness And In Health**_

Jane Rizzoli hated being sick. She was the type of person that would get up and run a mile to her destination if she was needed. (Of course, she was _also_ the type of person to claw someone's eyes out for bothering her for no apparent reason, on a really crappy day.) The brunette detective had been sick for about three weeks now, and everyone at the BPD was on pins and needles because of it. She got to be pretty grouchy when her cough medicine wasn't working right. And she was starting to threaten to punch whoever gave her this cold… Korsak and Frost knew better than to entice the sick detective, but her younger brother just couldn't catch a hint.

Maura was actually really worried for her spouse's wellbeing. She had been trying to give her a check up for a while now, but the brunette wouldn't have any of it. Kimberly didn't understand the seriousness of this matter, and couldn't stop laughing at her ma's grouchy behavior. But, really, what did you expect out of a six-year-old?

To make matters worse, however, a particularly long case kept both the detective and the medical examiner at work for two days straight. By the night of day one, Jane was already talking about calling it quits. She had coughed her head off to the point where she started dry heaving. Of course, at that point, her wife was looking into putting her on an anti-biotic, despite that it was against her wishes.

Sean Cavanaugh had told Rizzoli to go home to get some rest; hell yeah she was one of the best detectives working on the case, but she was much more useful when she wasn't hacking over the dead bodies. Jane refused to go home until the murder was solved, which annoyed her wife to no end. Even Angela, who had agreed to watch over her granddaughter while they were working, was beginning to wonder just how much she had to do to convince her daughter-in-law to sedate the detective in question.

Despite all of this, even Jane Rizzoli had a breaking point. She was just going to fight all the way to that breaking point, no matter what anyone else said.

o—o—o

The sick detective padded into the morgue, her face aching from the severe pressure being put on her sinuses. She groaned inwardly as she came up to her wife, who was examining the first of the three victims in this particular case. "Hey babe," Jane began, coughing into her elbow twice. Why the hell couldn't you just cough once and that be it for a while?

Maura looked up from the body, smiling slightly towards the brunette. "Hello, dear. You look terrible, you know."

"Thanks," Jane snorted, her voice crackling slightly. "Aren't you the most supportive wife a woman could ask for?"

"I'd like to think so," the medical examiner spared her wife another smile before looking back down at the body, "there was a weapon found at the scene of the crime, wasn't there?"

"Yeah," the detective shifted her weight onto her other foot as she watched Maura poke a little deeper into the wound on the victim's side. "Why? Was it not the real thing?"

"The DNA traces that were left on the knife didn't belong to any of the victims, Jane," Maura sighed, pulling her gloves off and setting them down in her tray of tools. "Though they did match the trail of blood that was leading from the scene of the crime."

Jane's face scrunched up in contemplation, putting her hands on her hips. "Wait, so, Maur, could this blood have come from the killer? Maybe one of the victims tried to fight back?"

"It's too soon to tell, I'm afraid. And you know how I feel about guessing," the blonde glared over at her wife, who just nodded and sighed just as well.

"Yeah, yeah," the sick detective ran her fingers through her hair, "I guess I'll go back to Frost and Korsak, see if they've come up with anything by now."

"Jane," Maura began just as her wife was turning around to leave the morgue. The older woman looked at her from over her shoulder, the beginnings of a smile playing at her lips, "take your medicine, okay?"

Jane chuckled quietly and went back over to her wife, kissing her gently. "Yes, Doctor Isles."

"That's Doctor _Rizzoli_-Isles to you," the honey blonde grinned back at the taller woman, sending her off with another kiss. "I'll talk with you soon, I'm sure."

"Yeah, if you find anything else out, call me, okay?" the sick detective told her, heading out of the morgue, sneezing into her elbow quite a few times.

"Bless you, dear!" Maura called, smiling sympathetically as her wife gave her a thumbs up before leaving for good.

o—o—o

After a while, though, Jane and Maura were actually able to go home. The killer had been put behind bars, and the victims' family members were notified. Of course, now that _that_ problem was solved, that didn't mean that things could go back to normal. The brunette detective was still sick as a dog, and refused to let her wife do any extensive diagnostics on her.

It was Friday morning and Jane Rizzoli had never felt more miserable in her life. She was laid up in bed with Joe Friday in her lap, several boxes of tissues stacked on her nightstand. Her wife was still sleeping, although the detective had no idea how she could have been. It was friggen hot in this bedroom! (Of course, she hadn't taken into account that she was probably running a fever…)

The sick detective looked at the clock that hung on the wall in their adjourning bathroom and groaned. It was _five_ AM! Why the hell couldn't her nighttime meds have helped her sleep all through the night?

Maura shifted closer to her wife subconsciously and wrapped her arms around her, murmuring something in her sleep. It was adorable when she did that, Jane had to admit.

"Love you too, Maur," she whispered, causing Joe Friday to pick her head up and glare at her owner. "Yeah, Joe, I love you too," she added, snorting as the dog just curled back up in her compact ball.

The honey blonde snuggled further into her wife's side as she came to not even a few minutes later. "Mmm. Morning, Jane."

"Hey," Jane whispered, smiling down at her wife. "Go back to sleep, it's not even five-thirty yet."

"What're you doing awake?" Maura slurred sleepily. "Rest is the only one-hundred percent way to fight a virus, or an infection."

"Pfft. Tell that to my body," the brunette groaned, wrapping an arm around the blonde's shoulders. "Been up since God knows when…"

"I'm sorry, honey," the medical examiner replied, resting her head on the detective's thigh. She closed her eyes as Jane began to stroke her thumb against her shoulder.

"Well, at least you're here with me," Jane whispered, dropping a kiss on the top of her wife's head.

"Mhm. That helps," Maura whispered just as quietly. She looked up at her wife as she turned her head to cough away from her. "Honey, are you alright?"

"No," Rizzoli pouted, "I hate being sick."

The honey blonde sat up on the edge of the bed, feeling around with her feet for her slippers. As she slipped them on, Maura got up and headed out of the bedroom.

"Maur! Where are you going?" the sick detective rasped, throwing Joe Friday off of her lap to follow after her wife.

"I'm going to make you some hot tea. Putting some honey and some lemon in it should alleviate any pain in your throat, and it might just suppress your urge to cough for a while," Maura spared her wife a tiny smile as Jane finally met up with the doctor.

When both mothers entered the kitchen, however, they ran into their six-year-old, who was busy raiding the cookie jar.

"Kimberly Loraine Rizzoli-Isles!" the honey blonde chided, causing the youngster to look over at her parents. "What on earth are you doing up this early?"

"I wanted a snack," the youngest Rizzoli grinned back at them, her deep dimples showing.

"You know that sugar this early will make you sick to your stomach," Maura began, scooping her child up and putting the lid back on the clear jar. "Now, how many have you had so far?"

Kimberly had to think about that for a moment, sticking her tongue out in contemplation. "Mmm…" she stuck up her whole hand, indicating how many.

"_Five_ cookies? That's it, little one, no more cookies for _you_ today," the doctor shook her head, looking back over at her wife as she tried to keep a smile off of her face.

Jane snickered at her wife and grabbed the cookie jar, placing it on top of the fridge and out of the child's reach. "Sorry, kiddo, mom's orders."

The six-year-old crossed her little arms and put on her best pouty face. "No fair."

"Well no one ever said life was fair," the detective shrugged, coughing into her elbow again.

Maura put her daughter down and began to fill the teakettle up with water. "Your ma is right, Kimberly. Now," she flicked the burner on and turned around to grin at her two favorite girls, "ma gets to take her medicine so that she'll feel better."

Jane groaned like a big ol' kid. "Oh c'mon, why do I have to? I feel fine!" She lied, fighting the urge to cough again.

The medical examiner crossed her own arms and waited for a few moments, tapping her foot impatiently. When her wife's body finally forced the coughs to come out, she relaxed some and just gave Jane that _look_.

Oh how_ fun_ was it to be married to a doctor…

**And that's where I'll call it quits, guys? What did ya think? Feel sorry for Jane? Drop me a line and let me know!**


End file.
